


Check You Out

by auroreanrave



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, College Football, Drabble, F/M, Flirting, Librarians, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 14:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2392427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auroreanrave/pseuds/auroreanrave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma knows books, not looks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Check You Out

**Author's Note:**

> Bit of harmless, AU Trimmons fluff to coincide with 'Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.' coming back.

It's unfair, really, Jemma thinks as she watches the new arrival from behind the safety of her desk. The library is quiet - not empty, exactly, for there are always at least six students on the verge of a caffeine-related breakdown hidden somewhere in the aisles - and she's spent too much time behind the desk already, bored out of her mind.  


Antoine Triplett is another matter altogether.  


He's spent at least thirty minutes hunkered down over a dog-eared copy of ----- , earbuds popped in, and broad hands and long fingers writing notes. Not that Jemma has been noticing his hands. At all. That would be stupid.  


Fitz would tease her relentlessly about it. Mind you, he's too busy upstairs in records helping out his own crush-du-jour, a computer science TA named Skye, who has a big smile and knows all of Fitz's semi-ridiculous pop culture references. Fitz had practically swooned when she asked for his help.  


So, really, Simmons' own harmless little daydreaming isn't so bad. She's not being a bad worker or lazy; she's just taking a mental break from her part-time job to consider Antoine's strong forearms or the long line of his back, or the way his faded jeans fit the curve of his arse just so -  


"Excuse me?" Jemma's snapped out of her reverie, by - oh holy God.  


Antoine - or 'Trip' as she's heard him called by his friends on the college football team - is standing in front of her, smiling and handsome and Jemma has to stop herself from blushing or stammering like a fool.  


"Yes?"  


Trip's smile grows even more, if possible, "I was wondering if there was some book out there on," he consults the notebook in his hand, "pre-Renaissance Muslim poetry. I'm taking an elective in non-Euro-centric literature and - "  


"It's one of the choices. Good choice. I, uh, I took that one last semester." Jemma smiles. "I'd recommend some more of Hafiz's work, but there's a great book in general..."  


She turns to the computer and spends a few seconds finding the book she's thinking of, where she can bury her burning face in the cool glare of the monitor screen, and away from being hyper-aware of Trip watching her.  


"What did you think of the course?"  


"Oh! I liked it, actually. I'm normally more of a science girl, but it was a really good course."  


Trip grins down at her, because she's tiny and he's like a giant. Or a sexy Norse god or something. Now she's imaging him in nothing but furs and that is not helpful or conducive to being efficient and professional.  


"Science, huh? You're the girl who invented those new bandages, right?"  


Jemma blushes. She and Fitz had been tinkering in one of the labs with the idea of a new medical implement and had come up with new bandages that advanced healing injury time along. They'd been spread across campus, and, Jemma realised, were standard kit for every football player on the team.  


"Hope they're looking after you on the field."  


"Girl, you've saved my life more times than you know," Trip says, smiling. "I owe you one. Or several, really."  


"Oh, that's, that's nothing," Jemma waved him off.  


"As if, Simmons," Trip says, taking a step back when Jemma hands him the location of the book he's after.  


"You... know my name?" Jemma blurts out, because what. How does he even know her name? There's no nametags or brass plaques across the desk, and outside of Fitz and their friends in the science society and Skye, no one really knows her name.  


"Damn right I do. I sure as hell didn't come in here to work up the courage to flirt with Fitz." Trip says, grinning and winking as he leaves. Jemma's heart is pounding out of her chest, and she has to sit down for a moment. When she sits down, she spots one of the pamphlets about proper IT etiquette, laid across her desk and the novel she's been reading. A number and Trip's name scrawled across it.  


Jemma puts Trip's number into her phone and makes sure to call him that night, because it'd be rude not to.  


Trip calls her every night from then on.


End file.
